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The Beat

by Mark Shaw (Yodatheoak)

Pulse drums my ears,
red and burning no tears,
right hand stiffening sinuosly deprived of freedom,
weighted feet,
dim lit corridor,
the far off chatter,
hands burn,
the rain has stopped only outside,
I wait in the blind moments,
ticking,
dripping,
I drain away into the street.

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Wednesday 4th April 2018 11:39 am

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